


32 Seconds

by PhoenixTalon



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTalon/pseuds/PhoenixTalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Olivia,” Barba said seriously, calculating quickly. “In about…32 seconds I’m about to do something incredibly stupid. I’m going to lean in--and kiss you. Unless you say no. Unless you push me away, tell me to get away from you, tell me to call an Uber, and take myself home. Which I will. Unless…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you have UST between characters and unresolved plot threads. Takes place at the end of season 17. Part 1 of 3.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were being threatened?”

Rafael Barba looked up to see Olivia Benson storming into his office, shutting the door behind her with a resounding slam. Her deep brown eyes flashed with thunder and for a brief moment, he felt a bit panicked. Benson had a way of unnerving him at times.

“I did,” He replied coolly. “I let your detectives know—”

“Fin told me you received multiple threats over the phone, before you were approached in the elevator,” Olivia undercut him. “But it wasn’t until after that you saw fit to inform us!”

“I am ADA,” Barba reminded her coldly. “I’m not a stranger to people making threats.”

“But police unions, Barba! Don’t you think that’s something I should have known about?” She folded her arms across her chest. “What, did you not trust me enough to deal with it?”

Something about her tone infuriated him. “Like you trusted me enough to tell me you were involved with Ed Tucker, during his investigations?”

His voice was snappish. Almost adolescent. He hated the way he sounded and reminded himself for the thousandth time that he was completely in the right here. What Liv had done was unprofessional. She’d failed to disclose her relationship to him. There was nothing personal about it, it was pure professional misconduct. And he would not stand for it. 

“This again,” Olivia looked as though she was trying to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “As you’ll recall, Tucker was not involved and was being set up.”

“I was still perfectly within my rights to question your judgment on the matter,” Barba retorted. 

“Excuse me?” Olivia’s tone was dangerous now. 

“You know it’s true,” Barba snarled. “And of all the people in the world—Ed Tucker?! Are you out of your mind?! The amount of times that man has tried to destroy your career and mine—”

“He does his job, Barba, just like you and just like me. Why are you so furious about this anyway?”

He didn’t have an answer for her. But something about the idea of Ed Tucker and Olivia Benson together made his hackles rise. It felt like betrayal.

“You get too emotionally involved, Liv,” Barba said finally. “You let that cloud your instincts.”

“I let my emotions cloud my instincts? Says the man who refused to tell me he was receiving death threats because of a stupid grudge!”

“We’re done talking about this,” Barba stood, beginning to pack up his suitcase, closing it with a decisive snap. “I identified the man who threatened me. He’s been taken in. It’s been handled, without you.”

She stiffened and he watched with a shameful satisfaction that his words seemed to hurt her. Good. He wanted them to hurt, wanted her to know that he was perfectly capable of dealing with these kind of matters without her. He did not need her. 

“And you think that’ll be the end of it?” Olivia recovered quickly, seemingly oblivious to his subtle motions that she should leave his office. “That you’re not going to deal with any more of threats? You said you received multiple hang-ups, from different numbers. The man we arrested said he was paid $250 every time he talked to you. You have to know there are others out for your blood.”

“Maybe so,” Barba acknowledged, walking past her, opening the door to his office. “But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” Olivia made no move to leave his office. “I thought we were closer than this, Rafael. I thought you trusted me more.”

He hated how his first name sounded on her lips.

“So did I,” His voice was low. “But apparently we don’t trust each other. And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe a professional distrust is exactly what we need.”

He’d hurt her again, he could tell. The little line between her eyebrows appeared, the mahogany of her eyes deepened, and her mouth set in a firm line. For a moment, he regretted his words. 

“If that’s how you feel,” Her tone was clipped. “Then we’ll do what you think is best.”

Olivia walked past him and headed towards the elevators. He locked the door behind him and headed toward the stairwell. He would not be trapped in a confined space with Olivia for more than fifteen seconds. It would break his resolve.

XXXX

Barba spent the rest of his evening attempting to wind down his fraught nerves. A dinner at his favorite restaurant, a phone call from an old friend in Maine, and finally a nightcap at his favorite bar—but nothing seemed to calm his nerves. He was furious and couldn’t exactly figure out why.

As he usually did on Friday nights, he stopped by his mother’s apartment, greeting her warmly. She took one look at his expression and clucked sympathetically. 

“Oh no,” Lucia murmured. “What’s the matter?”

Hearing his mother tongue was comforting. He smiled at her.

“Nothing, mami,” He said pleasantly. “Just wanted to see your face. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“No,” Lucia waved his concern away. “Headaches, as usual. But nothing else. Meanwhile, you are upset. What is the matter? Did you lose a court case?”

Barba grimaced slightly. “Not exactly.”

“You always hated losing,” His mother sighed. “Ever since you were a little boy. You never threw tantrums or lost your temper, but oh how you would glower for the next month! You have the same thunderclouds over your head. What is the matter? What did you lose?”

“It isn’t that, mami,” He let out a chuckle, recalling his youthful competitiveness. He had been a trial, certainly. 

“I haven’t lost anything,” Barba said slowly. “Maybe a friendship. But maybe it’s better that way.”

“Ah, I see now,” Lucia’s expression brightened. “It is Olivia Benson, yes? She is always driving you crazy.” 

“To put it mildly,” Barba grumbled. His mother reached across the coffee table, pressing her hand over his. 

“Tell me everything,” She requested.

So he did. At least, as much as he was legally obligated to share. He gave her a shortened rundown, explaining the case in vague terms, who Ed Tucker was, Olivia’s clear conflict of interest, and the professional liability. He left out the part about his threats, deciding he didn’t want to worry his mother unnecessarily. 

Lucia listened quietly and attentively. When he’d finished, she stretched a little and sighed, a soft smile on her face.

“What?” He asked, a little disconcerted at his mother’s reaction.

“It’s my fault,” She sighed again. “I’m so sorry, my son.”

“Your fault?” Barba was baffled.

“Yes,” She took a sip of tea. “You inherited my blood, you see. My temper. My jealous heart.”

“Jealous?!” Barba half-yelped. “Did you say jealous? Mami, I am not jealous.”

“You aren’t?”

“Of course not!” He glared at his mother’s warm, wise eyes. “This is about our careers, Mami. The cases we’ve worked together. Our working relationship—”

“Then why does her personal relationships bother you so?”

“They don’t bother me until they interfere with—with—”

“With your relationship with Olivia?”

Barba blinked at her. It was impossible. His mother had to be teasing him. He couldn’t possibly feel that way towards Olivia Benson. She irritated him more often than not and it seemed that they were always trading jabs. It was ridiculous!

“Mami, please,” Barba took a deep breath. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t think so,” His mother intoned. “You did the same thing when you were little. You were such a possessive little boy. It took you a long time to learn how to share.”

“There’s nothing—it’s not—I am not jealous,” Barba spluttered.

His mother said nothing, just smiled knowingly. She didn’t bring the matter up again, perhaps sensing that Barba would pull back further if pressed. 

They watched a trashy reality show together before Barba finally kissed his mother good night and snagged a cab. 

He couldn’t help but brood on the matter. His mother actually thought he was jealous over Lieutenant Olivia Benson and Ed Tucker. Jealous. What on earth did he have to be jealous for, particularly considering his supposed competition? Ed Tucker? The man was more straight laced than a straightjacket and had the personality of stale white bread. Barba had never liked the man and it was beyond comprehension why Olivia would want to…

Barba shook himself briskly. That was her affair. It didn’t concern him. His mother was wrong, he had no feelings for Olivia Benson outside of professional. 

She wasn’t at all his type, after all. Hell, she was taller than him. Well, not really. They were about the same height—he’d noticed once when he went over to her house. She’d been barefoot, distractedly giving him Noah while she cleared a space for them to sit. Nevertheless, she favored heels or boots, giving her another inch over him. He’d always liked petite girls, probably since his own frame was far from imposing.

Barba continued to think of other reasons he disliked her. They were always arguing, always bantering back and forth. She was stubborn, more stubborn than he, and had this annoying faith in him—no matter how impossible the case, how little the evidence, she had this unreserved faith that he would win for justice. 

Not to mention the way her hair framed her face…how her eyes flashed darker shades of brown when she was angry…her loyalty to her team, her fearlessness…the way her hardness melted away when she looked at her son. He’d only ever seen real fear on her face the day she told him who Noah’s biological father was. 

“Here, sir.” 

The cab had stopped. Barba shook himself away from his thoughts, feeling slightly disturbed. He paid the cabdriver and exited, walking towards his building. A clap of thunder broke overhead and he glanced at the sky musingly. 

He’d run out of things he disliked about Olivia Benson. Worse still, somehow his list had morphed into something far more distressing…

Damn it to hell. What did his mother always have to be right?

“Wait,” Barba turned back towards his cab, stopping it. “I need you to take me somewhere else.”

XXXX

The thunder had become a deluge of rain by the time he exited the cab. He stood outside Liv’s building, trying to work out how he’d gotten here. Lighting crashed above him, but he barely heard it, letting the rain soak him completely. 

Go home Rafael. What the hell are you doing here? Why did you come here? You have no reason to be here. The only thing you’re going to get out of this is pneumonia.

He pressed the buzzer. 

After a moment, he heard Liv’s voice. “Yes?”

“It’s Barba,” He said loudly. “I’m outside your building.”

Another pause. “You’re outside?”

“Yes,” He said impatiently. “May I speak with you? Please?”

The door unlocked and he entered, feeling slightly relieved. The doorman raised a brow as he passed by, marking his expensive, now possibly ruined suit. He could hear himself tracking water into the lobby and twisted his lips unpleasantly.

Of all the days it had to rain…

He knocked on Liv’s door and she opened it, her eyes widening at his bedraggled appearance. She looked beautifully casual—black leggings, her hair in a messy bun, an old Siena College sweatshirt. She opened her door wider, letting him enter.

“I just put Noah to bed,” Olivia shut the door behind him as he attempted not to drip over any of Noah’s scattered toys. “Is…everything okay?”

For the first time in his life, Barba had nothing to say. No quick rejoinder, no snark, no sarcasm. His mind went blank. 

“Rafael?”

Barba shook himself. “I…came to apologize,” He said slowly. “I shouldn’t have said…the things I said. I don’t want distance between us. Far from it.” 

Olivia looked shocked. He couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d ever apologized to a colleague, even if he was in the wrong. 

“Let me take your coat,” Olivia said finally. “Geez, you are drenched…you’ll be lucky if you don’t catch a nasty cold.” She helped him slide out of his trench and she carefully draped it over the kitchen counter. 

“I should have told you about the death threats,” Barba told her. “I should’ve come to you instead of Rollins and Tutuola. I acted…spitefully.” 

Olivia flicked her electric kettle on and sighed. She turned towards him and gave him a small, imperceptible nod. 

“But you should have told me about your involvement with Tucker,” Barba finished. “The moment it happened.”

Her eyes flashed and for a moment, Barba braced himself, expecting a fight. But her shoulders sagged a little and she turned away from her kettle. 

“You should really get that shirt off,” She told him. “It’s soaked. Pop it on the counter next to your shirt. Hang on a second.” 

She disappeared down the hallway and he touched his sleeves faintly. Liv was right, they were sopping. He slowly unbuttoned it, feeling a small relief as he peeled it off his wet skin. His undershirt was damp. Barba sighed and pulled it off as well. This wasn’t going at all how he’d planned. Damn the storm…

Olivia returned with a white shirt, much larger than her size. Barba narrowed his eyes. This was a man’s shirt. 

“Here,” She tossed him the shirt. “Tucker left it behind.”

“I’m not wearing that,” Barba said flatly.

Olivia glared at him. “Why one earth not?”

The fact was, Barba knew on sight that Ed Tucker was at least a head taller than him and probably several shirt sizes larger. Barba had no wish to emphasize this. But there didn’t seem to be a way to express this without it sounding ridiculously petty. 

“I’m not wearing it,” He repeated stubbornly. 

“So you’re just going stand there half-naked in my kitchen?” Olivia wanted to know.

“I guess so!” He retorted.

They glared at each other and Barba tried retain his usual sense of dignity. Trouble was, he felt a lot more confident in a three-piece suit than he did shirtless with wet hair. 

The kettle whistled and Olivia rolled her eyes, turning towards it and pouring boiling water into two mugs. She popped a teabag in each and handed the mug to Barba, who inhaled the steam gratefully.

“Nevertheless,” Barba decided to break the silence. “Nevertheless—despite the fact that Tucker has on multiple occasions tried to sabotage you and your team’s careers and the professional liability a relationship with him entails…if he makes you happy, then…then barring any conflicts of interest, I’m happy for you.”

He took a large gulp of tea, burning his tongue in the process, but stubbornly kept staring at her. He felt rather proud of his little proclamation, though Liv seemed a little irritated at the reminder of Tucker’s history.

“You don’t need to worry about conflicts of interest between Tucker and me,” Olivia said finally, stirring sugar and cream into her own mug. “You actually just missed him. We broke up this evening.”

Barba stared at her in astonishment. “What?”

“We broke up,” Olivia repeated, leaning against her counter with a sigh. “Don’t get me wrong, we still care about each other…but it was never quite right between me and him. There was always something…out of place. It should have been right, it should’ve made sense…but it didn’t.”

She glanced up at him critically. “Not that my dating life is or ever was any of your business.”

Barba half-heard her. He was overwhelmed with the intoxicating feeling of relief, closely followed by intense irritation that he felt that way. This was causing a whole host of problems tonight. 

“I’m…sorry,” He exhaled. “Again.”

Olivia shrugged. “It’s fine. Really. Honestly, I feel more guilty than anything else. Noah was starting to get used to Ed and, well…looks like I’m going it alone after all.” She took another meditative sip of tea, staring off into the distance. Barba watched her.

She was thinking that for a brief moment, she’d finally got it right. She’d finally found that someone. Someone to laugh with, someone to work with—a partner in every sense of the word, professionally and personally. Only to have it ripped away from her at the last second.

“You’re not alone,” He said quietly.

Olivia blinked. “What?”

“You’re not alone,” He returned. “What was it you said to me? That when you were 85 you hoped to still be bickering with me?” 

She gave him that smirking little half-smile he privately adored. She finished her tea and placed her mug in the sink, seemingly looking lost in thought. Finally, she glanced towards him with an exasperated sigh.

“You’re shivering,” She noted. “You really should put on that shirt.”

“I will not,” Barba crossed his arms.

“Fine,” Olivia rolled her eyes. She snagged a blanket off the couch and walked over to him, wrapping it around his bare shoulders. Her fingers grazed his bare skin and he noticed her breath hitch a little. Olivia’s eyes met his.

She’s barefoot. He thought to himself. Their gaze was completely level. 

Her hands drifted off of his shoulders and without thinking, he lightly caught her wrists. Her brown eyes widened. 

“Rafael?” She breathed. 

“Olivia,” Barba said seriously, calculating quickly. “In about…32 seconds I’m about to do something incredibly stupid. I’m going to lean in…and kiss you. Unless you say no. Unless you push me away, tell me to get away from you, tell me to call an Uber, and take myself home. Which I will. Unless…”

Olivia was statue still and seemed to be at a loss for words. He swallowed hard.

Five…four…three…two…one.

He brushed his lips against hers. Every nerve tensed in agonized anticipation, ready to spring away from her, apologize profusely, blame scotch, caffeinated tea, the blue moon…

But her lips clung to his and she stepped into his embrace. 

The blanket slid off his shoulders. To his utter shock, Liv was responding. When he released her wrists, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips were sweet and her mouth opened to his kiss, cautiously allowing him to venture further. He feverishly kissed her harder, his mind screaming the terrible implications this all meant. But somehow, with her sighing into his mouth, with him memorizing her lips, the taste of rain, of flowers, of surprise and an unexpected promise…

They were rudely interrupted by the sound of Noah crying. 

Her son’s wails snapped her out of their reverie. Pulling away from him, she murmured that she would be right back, and swept away to her Noah’s room. Barba watched her, feeling faintly dazed. 

Well, shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning.

Olivia soothed her son distractedly. Her mind was swimming, she felt light-headed at the implications of everything that had happened. Rafael Barba was standing shirtless in her living room and they had just shared one of the most intoxicating kisses she’d ever experienced.

Noah whimpered and she kissed his head gently. Her son had broken her out of a truly captivating spell, something she was unsure she was grateful about. This could not be happening to her. 

Damn it Liv…for once in your life, could you be with someone who ISN’T a professional conflict of interest?

Noah had drifted back to sleep and she gently set him back down, stroking his back meditatively. She wasn’t quite ready to return to her living room again. What would happen when she did? Where was this going to go? She couldn’t deny something electrifying had occurred. It was not something she would be able to ignore…hopefully Barba felt the same way…

Biting her lip, she exited Noah’s room and slowly padded back into her living room. Barba was sitting on her couch, slightly hunched over, looking deep in thought. He jerked abruptly when she entered the room; she quietly joined him on the couch.

He cleared his throat and she looked at him expectantly. But the usually loquacious man seemed to be at a loss for words. 

“Rafael?” Olivia questioned.

“Sorry,” Barba cleared his throat again. “I’m wondering whether I should apologize to you for what just happened, or leave—or—”

“Kiss me again.”

That caught his attention. He inhaled sharply and she noticed with satisfaction that his gaze fell on her mouth. Thunder rumbled outside and Olivia reached towards him, grasping his hand.

“Liv,” Barba breathed. “If we—”

“Thirty-two seconds,” Olivia whispered. She didn’t know why she said it. Perhaps she couldn’t escape the way his breath hitched when he’d said that to her. It had thrown her off completely. 

But he seemed to be just as thrown. This new onslaught of emotions, the dam breaking—it scared him too. They were both defenseless, without armor, and something inside her pushed to take it further. 

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression inscrutable, leaning gently towards her. She caught his palm, leaning into it, closing her eyes at his touch. His hands were so soft...

Their lips met cautiously, each asking a question they weren’t sure the answer to. Olivia memorized every detail, the smell of his spicy-sweet cologne, the way his five o’clock shadow scratched against her, how he closed his eyes with every gentle kiss, offering her complete trust and vulnerability. 

Barba muttered something against her lips. It sounded Spanish. She broke away from him briefly, raising her eyebrow. He shrugged apparently unwilling to translate and her lips twisted into a familiar expression, the same she gave him whenever he was being dry and sardonic. He laughed at that and kissed her again. 

His kiss was bolder now, her mouth opening against his, exploring every taste. His tongue glided against hers gently. He was so tender with her…

She shivered when his mouth left hers, trailing down her neck. He was learning her, memorizing every bit of skin that made her gasp. His hot tongue found the curve of her clavicle before gently nipping, right beneath her ear. 

Olivia moved suddenly, halfway on his lap. She kissed him soundly, before resting her forehead against his, trying to steady her breathing. Her nerves were on fire; it seemed as though the rest of the world had melted into the storm. 

Lightning crashed and she paused briefly, listening to hear if her son had woken. Barba waited patiently, his hands slowly stroking up and down her back.

“Do you need to go?” His voice was hoarse. 

She shook her head, turning her attention back on him. His green eyes had darkened and she smiled at the huskiness in his voice. 

“Are we doing this?” Barba’s voice was gruff. His hand tangled itself in her hair, releasing it from its bun. 

“Yes,” She whispered shifting slightly, so she was straddling him completely. Yes. Hell yes. She didn’t need a rationale, she didn’t want to think about the consequences—it was time to be rash.   
In light of this, her mouth crashed against his.

XXXX

Barba had lost his goddamn mind.

But it didn’t matter. He’d clearly left his sanity outside in the pouring rain and there it would stay. What mattered now was the soft little sounds Olivia made when she took control of their kisses, how her tongue slid against his in an aggressive, almost bossy manner. God, she was as annoyingly authoritative in her necking as she was in his office, and he fucking loved it.

She explored every crevice of his mouth, her hand cupping his cheek. She tasted like perfectly sweetened coffee, a taste he not only savored, but lived on. He groaned when her tongue flicked against his, when she sucked his lower lip. 

Barba’s hand slipped up underneath her sweatshirt, trailing up her skin, cupping her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra, something that hadn’t been evident because of her thick sweatshirt. But what a surprise it was and her gasp at his discovery was music to his ears. She broke away from him briefly, looking him hard in the eye before pulling off her sweatshirt. 

Olivia was so incredibly beautiful. It made his mouth go dry just looking at her. Smooth skin, a spray of freckles between her breasts—he’d half a mind to count and kiss them. She was unquestionably a woman, but firmly toned with wiry muscles.

They were both too old for shyness, but he thought he detected a little color rising in her cheeks—at least she acknowledged the strangeness of their situation. She wasn’t his type. He knew this. He’d known this for years, grinding his teeth in irritation when he learned she was dating Cassidy, when Tutuola made an offhand comment about her strong—allegedly platonic—relationship to her former partner. When he’d found out she was dating Ed Tucker…

He wasn’t her type and she wasn’t his. He’d accepted this. He’d known this. But yet here they were, skin on skin, and Barba’s rational reasoning could only take him so far. Olivia wanted him. What else was there to say?

“Should we—” Olivia wet her lips. “Should we go to my bedroom?”

Barba paused in consideration. It wasn’t too late. He could call it off now, if he wanted to. They could both act like this had never happened. Go back to being companions and friends. Keep their professional lives intact.

But seeing the sweet shyness in her eyes, the breathless anticipation in her expression…she wanted him. She didn’t want Cassidy, she didn’t want Tucker. She wanted him. And he was going to oblige her.

“Yes,” He said huskily, kissing her tenderly. She sighed into his mouth lingeringly, before slowly climbing off his lap, leading him to stand. She took his hand and led him down the hallway.

They were doing this. All thoughts of consequence flew out of Barba’s head and he paused, straining for patience when Olivia poked her head in her son’s room, making sure he was asleep. 

They were doing this. He needed to remember that Noah would always be her first priority…therefore should be his first priority as well. He liked the little boy, about as much as any person would like a toddler, but he’d never been good with kids. But he would try. For her sake, he’d try. He’d do anything for her…

Nodding in satisfaction, she grinned secretively at him, leading him into her bedroom. He smirked back at her, delicious excitement dancing through his veins as she shut the door behind him. 

There was one more moment of wait when Olivia checked that her baby monitor was on. And then their bodies were crashing together, his pressed powerfully against hers. Their kisses were more frenzied, more desperate, as if they were both dying of thirst. 

He walked backwards towards her bed, landing ungracefully as she pushed him supine. She kissed him hungrily, her mouth trailing down his collarbone, nipping his pulse points.   
Determined to get the upper hand, he rolled her over, smirking again. It was his turn to worship her, and he did so reverently, closing his mouth over her breast, laving his tongue over her nipple. Her back arched deliciously at that, her hands clenching in the sheets. He repeated himself towards her other breast, before lazily making a trail down to her bellybutton, nipping and sucking at her soft skin. She had beautiful skin, soft and creamy, his lips pausing a moment to brush against every scar and mark. She had spent her life protecting others. He loved her for that. 

Barba fell back on his knees, his fingers fumbling with his belt, muttering darkly in Spanish when his fingers caught against the buckle. Eventually, he was able to free himself from their binds and he kicked his pants off impatiently. Liv watched the entire performance in amusement, her eyes filled with mirth. 

Locking with her gaze, he thumbed the waistline of her leggings, waiting for her response. She nodded and he slowly slid her leggings down her thighs, kissing the new bit of skin revealed. He swept them off her feet with gusto and she laughed at the theatrics. Pleased, he returned to her mouth, kissing her slowly and deeply, until she took his hands and placed them at the edge of her panties. 

XXXX

So much for our professional relationship.

The thought flitted through her head as Rafael glided her panties down her legs, till they joined her leggings on the floor. Olivia loved the way his eyes had darkened as he feasted on her naked body, muttering something she didn’t catch. Her heart had started racing and she feverishly wondered—it wasn’t too late. She could stop this right here. She could save the remains of their careers and Barba would stop, Barba would apologize, she would apologize, and they’d go back to their respective offices and forget this night ever happened…

Olivia gasped when she felt his teeth on her thigh. Barba flashed a dark smirk between her legs and her heart pounded as he edged nearer up her thighs. Electricity swarmed through her veins as she watched him, breathless with anticipation. Barba took hold of her hips, pulling her closer to his mouth. 

He briefly glanced at her, asking her consent. She nodded, her fingers already gripping the sheets. When she felt his hot tongue breach her, she was unable to stop a hoarse cry. Undeterred, he explored her most secret places, his sharp nose rubbing against her rhythmically. Olivia saw stars—he clearly knew what he was doing, paying close attention to wherever made her jerk and cry out. It just figured he was as good with his mouth in the bedroom as he was in the courtroom. 

Her back arched and she couldn’t help the waves of pleasure that coursed through her, rivulets of pleasure spidering across her body. She vaguely heard Barba chuckle to himself, murmuring something dark and heady between her legs. He kissed her damp thighs once more, as if in gratitude, and rose up towards her. 

She was ready. She pulled him towards her in a musky kiss, desperately tasting herself and him. Raspberries and coffee…she moaned into the kiss before relinquishing, and whispering into his ear.

“The nightstand.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He rolled away from her briefly, digging around until he unearthed a small box of condoms. She fell backwards, closing her eyes, listening to the crinkle of the paper, trying to catch her breathing up. 

Moments later, he was kissing her again, long and languishing, as if he never intended to stop kissing her. His hand came between her thighs, his fingers verifying her wetness. She gasped when she felt them enter her. 

“Rafael,” Olivia moaned, making his name a request. 

They both cried out as he pushed inside her, agonizingly slow. He was still so cautious, so tender, giving her every chance to refuse him. She mewled in protest, her fingers digging into his bare shoulders, begging him to go faster. 

All sanity lost, he thrust into her more deeply, sweat beading his brow. Olivia’s hips rose to meet him with every thrust, relishing the way looked, so completely out of control. Everything about him was so precise and punctuated, but here in her bed, he was unleashed. Wild, frantic energy, like a thunderstorm across her bare body. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he choked at the tightness, sheathing himself into her completely. Olivia was trembling beneath him and his hand slid between them, touching heat—he was desperate to match her to him.

At this, she rolled him over again, straddling him completely. Her hands explored the toned lines of his body, smooth and wiry. He wasn’t a large man, but his muscles were firmly taut. Her pace was erratic and Olivia bit her lip, as waves of pleasure began to crest within her. She straightened suddenly, looking down at him. He looked so out of his depth, so at her mercy. He seemed to recognize this.

“Olivia,” Barba’s eyes were scrunched tight, his hands spanning her hips as she rode him, her pace rhythmic and smooth. 

“Say my name again, Counselor,” Olivia said huskily, grinding against him harder. Her fingers dug into his thighs. 

“Olivia,” Barba growled back at her, his hand sliding between her thighs. She moaned at his hot fingers, jerking against him faster. 

He put up a valiant effort, but within moments of her mercilessly riding him, Barba was undone. He fell completely apart, his orgasm so intense it shook them both, and she leaned to meet his lips. He tasted the second time she came, the soft little cry she made in his mouth, and he lost himself in her soft skin, her enchanting eyes…

She shivered, rolling off of him, completely spent. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead gently. The two of them listened to each others heartbeats slow down. 

“Staying the night?” Olivia murmured in his ear.

“Like I could move,” Barba grumbled. She laughed, kissing his ear and the two of them fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

At 6:00AM, Barba’s eyes snapped open. 

After getting up at 5AM for thirty odd years, after countless all-nighters, after becoming far too familiar with the rising sun, Barba had forgotten what it was like to sleep in. There was never time for it. There was always an early court appearance, there was always a commitment, always a heavy course load. If he didn’t thrive on the job’s competitive nature and constant obstacles, he’d probably be interminably weary. 

But for once, his brain was not buzzing. He didn’t feel the adrenaline rush he usually got when he thought of all the things he needed to do, how long the day was going to be…

He felt content. 

That was new. 

Barba exhaled slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was in Liv’s bedroom, sleeping in her bed—and she was curled next to his side, breathing peacefully. Noah’s baby monitor was the only light in the room and he turned his head towards the window, noting the sun was still a long way off. 

He was tempted to hunt for his phone, probably buried under the mass of hastily discarded clothing on the floor. But all thoughts of moving disappeared from his head as he brushed a stray lock of chestnut hair from Liv’s face. He kissed the top of her head gently, wryly smiling.

He’d never been like this. Rafael Barba was not a man of sentimentality and he was far from a romantic. He liked sex, sure, he had the occasional one night stand. But anything more than that was generally impossible. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to devote to another person and that other person never understood how important his job was, how he’d worked so hard to get where he was…

Until Olivia…

Barba relaxed a little, closing his eyes. There was something incredibly relaxing being here with her. For once in his life, maybe he’d be able to sleep in. He smiled when Olivia unconsciously snuggled into his warmth. His eyelids started to droop.

“In the heights, I flip the lights and start my day/There are fights and endless debts and bills to pay, in the heights, I can’t survive without café (I serve café!)”

“What’s that?” Olivia murmured sleepily.

“Shit,” Barba swore. “Sorry—my phone’s alarm. Hang on.” He clambered out of bed and felt around for his pants. He retrieved his phone and switched the alarm off. 6:30AM…his late alarm, for weekends…

“What time is it?” Olivia stretched tiredly and Barba shuffled into his pants. She glanced at the baby monitor, which still reported Noah’s undisturbed sleep. 

“6:30AM,” Barba answered, clearing his throat. “I have court at 10…”

They gazed at each other awkwardly and Barba cleared his throat. Olivia rested her chin on knee, looking contemplative.

“Why don’t…” He cleared his throat again. “Why don’t I make us some coffee?”

Coffee was a perfectly normal suggestion. Olivia offered him a tentative smile and nodded. He nodded back and exited her bedroom, silently kicking himself.

Stupid alarm. That was not how he’d wanted their first morning to go together. He should’ve kissed her gently awake, brought her breakfast in bed, they should be lazily making love as the sun rose…well, he did have court, it’s not like he could spend the entire day in bed, though the idea was tempting…

His phone was buzzing. Sighing, he answered it. “Hello?”

Barba listened carefully as he searched Olivia’s cabinets for coffee. He smirked in success as he removed a red tub of Folgers and began a hunt for coffee filters. 

“All right, Carmen, thank you,” He discovered them in one of the kitchen drawers. “Thank you for letting me know—I’ll be there.”

His lips twisted. “Yes, Carmen, in a few hours, I don’t need to come into the office beforehand.”

He tapped his foot impatiently as he prepped the coffee machine. “No, I’m not ill, but if I don’t need to come into the office—what do you mean ‘I always come in regardless’? I will see you in a few hours, Carmen.” 

Barba pressed END and shoved his phone on the counter. Olivia cautiously entered, Noah on her hip, breathing in the scent of coffee. 

“Morning,” She greeted him, almost shyly. 

“Morning,” He replied, feeling nervous. “Er—are you hungry?”

Olivia cocked her head, seating Noah in his highchair. “Yeah—but I don’t really have much, aside from sliced fruit and cheerios.”

Barba opened her fridge, noting its contents. “You have eggs, cheese, and milk. Want an omelet?” 

She leaned against her counter, crossing her arms over her chest. He noted that she seemed to have usurped his shirt and that pleased him in a ridiculously possessive way.

“You’re going to make an omelet?” Olivia’s tone was doubtful.

“You think I can’t cook?” Barba snorted.

“I have my doubts,” Olivia’s smile was pure glee, the same smile she utilized when she had a particularly ridiculous case she wanted him to take. It didn’t matter the lack of evidence, witnesses, or obscurity, she knew if she challenged him in just the right way…

“Where’s your skillet?” Barba demanded.

She pointed to the cabinet above the stove. As he started to retrieve his equipment, her phone rang. She sighed a little and glanced over at Barba, who was currently searching for basil.

“Could you give Noah his breakfast?” She requested. “Cheerios are in that pantry. Rollins is calling.” Before he could answer, she stepped out of the kitchen, walking into the hallway.

Barba glanced nervously at Noah, who looked at him patiently. Swallowing, he retrieved a small bowl of cheerios and poured him a bowl. Olivia hadn’t said anything about milk…did toddlers like milk with their cereal or was that a disaster waiting to happen? Noah didn’t seem to mind his inexperience, and contentedly began to munch on the cereal. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Noah,” Barba pulled a chair over, placing a sippy cup of juice in front of Noah as well. “I know nothing about children.” 

Noah blinked at him. 

“I mean, I’m assuming Tucker has experience with this,” Barba went on in disgust. “I think he has a daughter or something. But I know nothing. I have no experience. I have cousins with children but I generally avoid them at family gatherings.”

Noah offered him a Cheerio. Barba sighed and took it. 

“And despite my mother’s constant requests, I never really planned to have kids,” He crunched the cheerio thoughtfully. “They’re a lot of work, you know. I have no idea how Liv balances it all.” 

“Mama,” Noah replied wisely. “Baba?”

“Barba, yes, that’s my name,” He ruffled the toddler’s hair affectionately. “All I’m asking is—if you’re willing to give me a chance, I’ll do my best. I’ll screw it up. I’ll make a lot of mistakes. But I promise I’ll do my best—and I’ll try if you will.”

Noah giggled. Olivia reentered the kitchen and smiled at both of them. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Everything okay?” He asked, gesturing at her phone.

“Yes,” Olivia sighed. “Rape victim from a college party disclosed to Rollins. She and Carisi are handling it at the precinct now. I offered to come down, but they both know it’s a Noah day, so they’ll handle it and call if they need me. Oh, you found the juice? Thank you.” 

She kissed her son’s cheek tenderly and Noah blew a raspberry at her. She chuckled and Barba returned to his original plan, to make an omelet. 

“What about you?” Olivia poured herself a cup of coffee. “Do you have anything today?”

“I have to be at the courthouse at ten,” Barba said reluctantly, cracking four eggs into a bowl. “But I won’t be there all day.”

He hesitated a moment, stirring his egg mixture.

“If you like,” He said slowly. “I could come back…bring over some lunch. Unless you’d prefer it to be just you and Noah.”

Olivia’s face brightened. “I think that might be a good idea—as long as you don’t mind cartoons. It looks like it’s going to rain today, so that will probably mean we’ll be watching Disney films and Steven Universe for the rest of the afternoon.”

“I don’t mind,” Barba said quickly. “I’ll bring over lunch.”

They gazed at each other a little warily as butter sizzled on the skillet. Olivia sipped her coffee thoughtfully.

“It might be good,” She said suddenly. “To—talk. About where to go from here. Once you get back. So we’ll have time to think—and then talk.”

Barba nodded slowly. “Of course…and I’ll respect wherever you want to go.”

Olivia blinked at him in confusion.

He looked her in the eye. “I’ll be honest with you, Liv. I’m in. I’m all in. If you want there to be an us, then I have no reservations. I don’t need to think about it. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. But whatever you want us to be—friends, colleagues, lovers…it’s your decision.”

She shivered a little at his intensity. He felt incredibly raw, standing there in her kitchen, slowly folding eggs and cheese on a skillet. But it was a relief to tell her. It was a relief for her to know, for it not to be constantly weighing on him anymore. 

“Okay,” Olivia exhaled. 

“Okay?” Barba questioned.

“Okay.” 

Her answer, like her smile, was simple. Direct. But despite the vagueness, he felt something warm settle in his stomach, and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

The rest of their breakfast passed in amiable conversation, with Barba asking Liv how Noah’s verbal skills were coming and Liv asking about his court case. She loved the omelet and seemed even more delighted that he could cook—he told her that when he was young, he hated seeing his mother stumble home from work and then slave over the stove for 45 minutes just to fix him something. He’d gotten in the habit of cooking for her when he got home from school, so she wouldn’t have to. He didn’t cook as often as he’d like to nowadays, as it was a time-consuming hobby and takeout was easier—but he was already planning several flashy meals he’d cook for her. 

Eventually, he pointed out that he would need his shirt back to go into the courthouse and Olivia’s smirk insinuated that he would have to remove it from her first…

Which of course led to Barba very nearly being late for the first time in his life. Thank God his Uber driver found a back street that avoided major traffic. 

Still, he made it with about twelve seconds to spare and everything went smoothly. He was in an extraordinarily good mood by the time he’d finished, earning curious and slightly fearful looks from his assistant. 

He’d texted Olivia, asking what she wanted from Fitz’s, an old burger place around the corner that had excellent root beer floats, which he thought might please Noah. As he walked out of the courthouse, he heard a slightly sardonic voice comment, “Why the hell are you so chipper?”

Barba grinned at Calhoun. “Oh, Rita—I’m sorry, I didn’t hear your broom pull up.”

Rita Calhoun arched a brow at him regally. She snorted at his somewhat weak barb. 

“You came out that door practically floating,” She sneered a little, matching his pace easily. “What happened? Finally get laid after twenty years?”

Barba snorted. “Why the sudden interest in my personal life? Vying for a spot?” 

“Oh please,” Calhoun rolled her eyes. Barba’s phone pinged and he checked it quickly—cheeseburger, two root beer floats, fries, chicken tenders. Simple enough. 

“Well, look at that,” Calhoun, who apparently didn’t miss anything. “Was that a tender smile I saw? Who’s the unfortunate lady—or gentleman?”

Barba rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Rita, is it so impossible that maybe my good mood could come from something other than my sex life?” 

“Not for you,” Calhoun chuckled. “Besides, I have money on this—it’s Olivia, right?”

Barba channeled all of his years of poker faces, false charm, and stone-faced exteriors to give Rita Calhoun a vaguely puzzled yet slightly irritated glance. 

“Olivia Benson?” He said coolly, like he’d only heard the name once, never breaking his stride. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” She gave him a glinting smile. 

“You really think I’d jeopardize my career for a fling with Lieutenant Benson?”

“So you’ve thought about having a fling with Lieutenant Benson!” Calhoun said triumphantly. 

“Rita, please go pester someone else, I have an extremely busy day,” Barba said sardonically, turning a corner towards Fitz’s. To his irritation, Calhoun continued to match his pace. 

“I’m just saying,” Calhoun said thoughtfully. “If you were seeing Olivia Benson and you were picking up lunch for her so you two could have a nauseatingly cute Saturday together—I wouldn’t say anything. I’d keep it to myself.”

Barba stopped at that and raised a brow. “Excuse me? As fun as your hypotheticals are—”

“Not for you,” Calhoun interrupted. “I’d bury you the second I had a chance. But for Lieutenant Benson. I like her.”

“You like her?” Barba snorted. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I like any woman who has the ovaries to challenge me,” Calhoun’s smirk was positively maniacal. “If I needed her help—I know she’d help me, despite her personal antagonism towards me. I respect that.” 

“Mmm,” Barba narrowed his eyes. “Well, despite your probing into my personal life, get used to disappointment. Now really—I have a lunch engagement. Go harass someone else.” 

Calhoun chuckled to herself and turned away, looking extraordinarily pleased with herself. He watched her, his lips twisting a little in agitation. He trusted Calhoun as far as he could throw her, but a hunch wasn’t evidence. Anyway. 

He went into Fitz’s to pick up his order. 

XXXX

By the time he reached Olivia’s apartment, Barba had returned to his good mood. There was no sense in worrying about Calhoun now. Not to say it wasn’t something to be concerned about, but Barba was determined not to let her spoil this day. He had been waiting for this for years. He was going to enjoy every goddamned minute of it. 

He was about to knock on her door when it suddenly opened—Ed Tucker was standing in the doorway. 

Pure, wholesome, irrational and unadulterated rage flooded Barba’s veins. His mind suggested several colorful Spanish phrases with which to describe Ed Tucker. But cool rationality quickly took over.

“Tucker,” He said pleasantly. “How are you?” 

“I’m well,” Tucker responded warily. “You’re here to see Olivia?” 

“Yes,” Barba replied easily. “We’re reviewing a case together. I wasn’t able to squeeze her into my schedule Monday, unfortunately.”

“And you brought lunch.”

“That’s for us!” Sonny Carisi appeared out of nowhere. “Thanks for picking that up, Counselor. Hope you got extra fries.” 

“Lemme grab that for you,” Amanda Rollins sidled up next to Barba, carefully grabbing his lunch. “Heya, Tucker. Thanks Barba, for coming over—we really need your insight on this case.”

“Any time,” Barba answered, hoping the bewilderment wasn’t apparent in his voice. 

At this, Tucker moved aside to let them through. Barba kept his expression bored and neutral, though he flicked a quick glance at Olivia. She looked nervous for a brief instant and then cleared her throat.

“Got everything you need?” She asked Tucker quietly.

“Yes,” He nodded slowly. “Thanks. Sorry for the short notice.” He bent over, picking up a large box. Barba was pleased to see that it was filled with some of Tucker’s clothes and a few Jimmy Buffett CD’s.

“Sure,” Olivia nodded. “See you around.” 

Tucker leaned over and kissed her cheek. The four of them watched him exit the apartment, closing the door behind him. 

Carisi exhaled loudly. “Whew! Close one, Lieutenant!” 

“Thanks, Carisi,” Olivia said in relief. “And thank you, Rollins—I really appreciate you both coming over.” 

She looked apologetically at Barba. “Sorry—Tucker texted me right after you did, said he was coming over to get the rest of his stuff. I didn’t want him to see us having lunch on a weekend together—he is still in IAB—so I panicked. Had Carisi and Rollins come over as an alibi.”

“Any time, Lieutenant,” Carisi winked at them both. “We got your back.” He helped himself to more fries. 

Barba narrowed his eyes at her, his gaze flickering between Rollins and Carisi. Was it really a good idea for part of her squad to know?

“Don’t worry, Counselor,” Rollins caught his expression. “Let’s just say—don’t ask, don’t tell.” 

She smiled at Carisi and suddenly Barba wondered if he and Liv weren’t the only ones endangering their careers.

“Well,” Carisi announced, finishing off the last of the fries. “This has been fun. But we got work to do. Ready, Rollins?”’ 

Rollins nodded and the two of them exited out the door. Barba’s eyebrow rose when he noticed Carisi’s hand reach for Rollins’ as they made their way towards the elevator. Snorting, he shut the door, turning to face Olivia.

“Hm,” He said thoughtfully. “Considering Carisi has purloined all our fries, maybe I should order delivery from Fitz’s to replenish our supply.” 

“Sure,” Olivia smiled at him, taking his hand. She leaned in and kissed him sweetly, a cool brushing of lips that was casual and ordinary, as if they did this every day. Barba briefly wondered why it wasn’t an everyday occurrence. 

“How was court?” She asked.

“Unending,” Barba growled and pulled her into his arms, kissing her fiercely. It had been an entire three hours since he’d kissed her properly and that simply was unacceptable. He was going to savor every moment of this, memorize the taste of her, how it felt to entangle his hands in her hair. She had so many flavors…coffee and roses, cinnamon and Spearmint, cloves and autumn…he would learn every single one of them. She broke away from him, half-gasping a little at his enthusiasm, her dark eyes dancing.

“Lunch,” She ordered. “I’m starving and so is Noah.”

He helped her take down plates, silverware, and spread their banquet on the coffee table. Noah happily made a mess of his root beer float and Olivia flicked on Hulu, settling down with them both to watch some cartoon about aliens that had a great deal of singing. 

After five or six episodes, Noah had fallen asleep. He was splayed across Olivia and Barba’s laps, his head resting against her thigh, his legs occasionally twisting about on Barba’s lap. Barba noted aloud in amusement that somehow, one of his favorite ties had gotten hot fudge all over it. 

Olivia smiled at that. “He’s a bit of a menace towards my scarves…and my makeup, come to that. So if you have any real personal attachment to those suits of yours, I’d be wary of him.”

Barba snorted. “You know, I once told my mother that I would be so successful, I would never wear the same suit twice. Noah’s just helping me honor my promise to my mother.”

That made her laugh so loud it nearly woke Noah. Her son twisted his lips in a manner Barba had seen on Olivia’s mouth more than once—but he turned over, his nap undisturbed. 

“You’re okay with this?” Olivia asked suddenly. “All of this?”

“More than okay,” Barba told her, taking her hand and kissing it. 

“Noah will always come first.”

“I know,” He kissed her palm again. “I’m not going to pretend I’m a genius with kids. But I’m a fast learner.”

“And your job…” Her brow furrowed. “And my job…”

“Liv, I’m a lawyer,” Barba said practically. “I make my living at talking my way in and out of things. We’ll figure it out.” 

She rolled her eyes at his cockiness. But it seemed to relieve her, nonetheless. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he exhaled in a combination of relief and contentment.

They’d figure it out. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rafael Barba being a huge fan of Broadway musicals is one of my very favorite headcanons about him.


	4. Paciencia Y Fe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really an additional chapter. I wish it were. But I'm feeling heartbroken about the election. So I'm processing it by writing about it, using my ships to deal with my grief.

Olivia was pacing, angrily, her voice getting louder with every syllable. Barba watched her, nodding in agreement. She was so incredibly furious—and he didn’t blame her. 

“Twelve women,” Her voice shook with emotion. “Twelve women came forward. They were mocked, they were derided—he even threatened to sue them in his first one hundred days in office—and it didn’t matter. Their voices didn’t matter.”

“I know,” Barba said softly. “I know.”

“How could we do this?!” Olivia raked her fingers through her hair. “How could we diminish women this much? How could he win when his campaign was nothing but one—but one misogynistic attack on his candidate…questioning her appearance, her clothes, calling her nasty, the same kind of comments women get every single day of their lives…”

Barba poured another glass of scotch. Olivia would soon exhaust herself, but she was not done.

“You know Fin’s son is terrified,” Olivia informed him. “He’s scared they’re going to overturn the SCOTUS ruling and take away his son. Fin told him it wouldn’t happen. But he’s scared too. I can tell.” 

Barba shook his head. “It won’t happen, Liv. We’ve had a conservative Supreme Court before, they still didn’t overturn Roe vs. Wade.”

She closed her eyes when he mentioned Roe vs. Wade. “Oh God…oh God, they’re going to defund Planned Parenthood. They’re going to ignore the rape kit backlog. They’re going to repeal the Affordable Care Act…millions of women are depending on these, millions of women need this, millions of women…” Her voice began to crack.

Barba stood and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her temple. He felt wetness against his cheek and hugged her tighter. 

“How am I going to explain this to Noah?” She whispered. “How am I going to tell him that the bully—the bully won?”

Barba kissed her on the forehead again. He glanced down the hallway, where Noah was asleep in his room, safe from the terror of the election.

“You know what he asked me yesterday?” Olivia swallowed. “He asked me if the president was going to deport you and Abuela.”

Pain lanced across Barba’s heart and he felt a familiar rage—a rage that had followed his childhood, his adolescence, whenever anyone learned his family was Cuban. The ensuing stereotypes, the muffled jokes, the condescension…his hands curled into fists. 

“Sometimes,” Barba’s voice was hoarse. “Sometimes—and you and I know this—sometimes the bully wins. Sometimes the abuser wins.”

Olivia’s dark eyes filled with tears.

“But that doesn’t mean,” He whispered. “That doesn’t mean the war is over. It just means we lost one battle. It just means we have to keep fighting.”

Her face crumpled. “I am so tired of fighting for the right to exist.”

“I know,” Barba said quietly. “But we will fight. I will fight for you and for every woman whose voice needs to be heard. You will fight for me and my family. And we will both fight for Noah. We will get through this.”

She buried her head in his shoulder and he held her tightly. 

We will get through this.


End file.
